I got an email last night from the Pundits, the secret society that throws the naked parties. It reads as follows:

Friends, Comrades, Lovers, and Hooligans-

Love is in the air, as the poets are wont to say
But it's lust not love that concerns me this Valentines Day
We've planned an activity, an invitation I'd like to extend
You can come all alone or you can come with a friend.
Reply to ned.pushtit@gmail.com to hear what it's about
Don't bother responding if you don't plan to make-out.
Respond before midnight for this opportunity
With lust from your friends, TBIYTB

So of course, I replied, and received this response:

Meeting Time: 11:00 am Thursday, February 12
Meeting Place: Silliman Courtyard

Duration: 45 minutes
Costume: No costume needed! (Whether you come clothed or not is up to you. We'll be clothed, but we would never say no to free spirits)
Props: This is a BYOMOP event. (Bring your own make-out partner) Should you fail to supply a make-out partner, one will be provided for you at no cost. Do not attend if you are not DTMO (down to make-out).

Full details will be disclosed at 11:00 am in the Silliman Courtyard
 
email: ned.pushtit@gmail.com with any questions or concerns.

BASICALLY, we just crashed lectures and started making out with each other while the professor was trying to teach. I did it with my friend La Love, who also wants to be a pundit. College is great.

Well... it's 1:54 in the morning now, and I'm just now all packed, save my computer. I leave in 7 hours. I might post more when something like, actually happens.

I got my license, but I'm really pissed off. I got there at 1:30 for a 1:45 appointment, was told to wait in my car. Someone comes along at 2:15. I correctly execute my hand signals, and when the fatass supervisor looks into the car, she says, "Oh no, is that dog hair? You know, I don't have to enter the car." So she sends me and my dad back home to vacuum out the car (Incidentally, we had friends check it out, they couldn't see any dog hair). I finally get tested at 3:15. The supervisor was condescending and rude. According to the sheet, I passed with an 82. However, if you actually look at the deductions I received, the dumbfuck fatass supervisor can't subtract, I got an 84. I waited in 2 different lines upon returning, and left with a temporary license in which I am visibly pissed off at 4:50. Why does no one give a shit enough to fix the DOL? Has ANYONE had a positive experience there? And I mean, ANYONE? In what way is that acceptable?

So I can now honestly say I've worked with an illegal immigrant, picked up and hired at Lowe's. Not like, as a social worker, or imposing and trying to make their lives better, but alongside one, a guy named Freddy, who is ridiculously hilarious. We were both working on the new screens at my theater (for which I am now getting paid!), and he told me of his English-learning exploits, whereupon a girl he was hooking up with asked him to eat her out (verbatim) and he had no clue what the hell was going on. Good times. And I'm going to the DOL tomorrow morning, performing in the evening, and getting arrangements to go to Pike Place Market to busk. I love summer.

Why do we all suck at talking about death? Right now, my uncle, my sister, and my mom are all talking about when and how my grandparents will die, and about how they need to take better care of themselves, and to make sure the four other siblings all get to visit them before they die. Of course this isn't a conversation that we could ever have with them, heaven forbid. My grandpa would just brush it off, bitch about being old, and say, "Never get old, Paul."

We spend so much money, as a country, on health care. It's absolutely nuts. Something like 20% of our GDP, more than any other country on earth. My grandparents are kept alive by like a dozen different prescription drugs. My grandma is constantly on painkillers and cannot move anywhere without a walker or wheelchair and help. My grandpa is at least half a foot shorter than me and claims he weighs 230 pounds, but is probably lying. They're clearly going to die sometime in the not so distant future, most likely while I'm at college. I'm not trying to be pessimistic or morbid, it's just true, and for their own peace of mind they should probably realize it, and if they want to, talk with us about it. In April they moved up here from Arizona, and brought too much shit with them. They should have accepted that they will not live to use the vast majority of it. It works a lot better than leaving a bunch of useless sentimental shit in a dingy public storage unit that most likely I'll have the burden of cleaning out, if I'm at home when they die. And I don't just mean the burden of a day's work, I mean leaving your family to clean out and sell your memories.

Renee mentioned that when random people come to talk to her about Donner, inevitably someone will ask how she can give up a puppy that she raises. It's all about control, and apparently all the random strangers she meets cringe at the thought of losing something you might love and grow close to. When you buy a pet or a puppy, chances are you'll outlive it. When you make a friend or fall in love and marry someone, there's a decent chance, depending on circumstances, that they'll die before you. That's a fact. Why can't we just admit and accept that? Why not embrace it? Why do my grandparents spend most of their time worrying about small things in their family's life and their health? Why can't they be happy to have a family that loves them, and enjoy what time they have left, free of worry? If anyone has an answer to any of these questions, I'm listening.

Fuck... I hate that I want to talk and have nothing to say. I've been doing plenty over break, I'm having fun and enjoying some time time off, but I feel so incredibly restless. I still overcaffeinate myself for no reason, I've seen friends more than I usually do in a weekend/break, I volunteered for 8 hours on Sunday at my theater, met the governor and a bunch of legislators down in Olympia today (in the process very much impressing the slightly older than middle aged democratic women in my carpool), and I'm taking my written test for my driver's license tomorrow (finally) or perhaps wednesday morning, depending on how things work out. And I'll be finally out of poverty once I babysit on Wednesday and help a neighbor move heavy stuff on Saturday.

Doing random productive shit just isn't satisfying, because I'm so impatient, and I always get trapped into thinking the next thing I'm looking forward to will make life fun and worthwhile, or that if the next thing I'm nervous about goes well life will be cool, or that my life will ease up after some big obstacle passes. What's wrong with just enjoying break at the moment, right now?

Well, one thing that break hasn't changed is my completely fucked up sleep schedule. I should get on fixing that... seeing as I've had to wake up early every day in break so far, and tomorrow is a more than welcome chance to wake up past noon.

So, I'm giving up processed sugar for lent. Let's see how that one works...

So, I thought I'd be able to get some homework done, because I actually have a fair amount:

Philosophy reading
Media reading
Media studying
Physics
Chemistry (shit)

Won't the homework just get that, like, I'm not interested? Can't it take a hint? Sigh. I guess not. And posting on livejournal won't exactly make it go away quicker....

So I basically have nothing to do. Break is great, but it's killing me, I want to do something meaningful. I'm just lounging around all day, and that gets old after a while. Buttt.... I do have one funny story....

I talked to my sister's boyfriend for the first time today. I tried to answer her cellphone when our whole family was there, to embarrass her, but I missed it and had to call him back. So I introduced myself and proceeded to try to embarrass her. The guy (Alex) asked me to say something really embarrassing about her to freak her out, but I couldn't think of anything at first, so I just said, "Natalie did WHAT?", which indeed succeeded in freaking her out. And then, before I handed the phone over, I just said, "I bet you didn't know about this really weird thing she can do with her tongue..." which prompted her to hit me and take the phone.

It's all well and good to be an embarrassing younger brother, but I really should be more mindful of this stuff. I'm pretty sympathetic to my sister's boyfriends, because I don't think it's as big a deal as I used to, and I've heard about the bullshit my dad had to go through with my mom's dad. But, it kinda scared me. What if she marries this guy? It's not that far fetched, my parents met in college, and she really likes the guy. Am I gonna have to live with this introductory story when I'm 40? It was just a little scary, thinking of the future that way, and having to watch my actions and consider ridiculously long off consequences.

EDIT: I forgot to add that Alex thought it was completely awesome, and called me 'The Man' just before I passed off the phone, so I shouldn't be so fatalistic.

I sit here now in Uncle Elizabeth's with Alice Woodward, and I wonder the point of it all. I'm enjoying a strawberry-raspberry smoothie, but why do I enjoy it so? Is there really nothing more to my life than cheap gags and emotionally unavailable cheap hookers? Unfortunately for this lifestyle, so dependent upon cheap thrills, I have decided to enjoy a 50,000 dollar a year education, so that I might one day enjoy slightly more expensive tricks and hookers.

I'd best eat my satsumas now.